


Trust

by Jess_S



Series: Felicitas [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Highlander - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Felicitas-verse - Freeform, Fluff and Angst, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-03 02:13:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4082740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jess_S/pseuds/Jess_S
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because every relationship has to start somewhere...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on 6/5/2015.  
> REVISED: 9/20/2015.  
> Author's Revision Note: Not too many changes in this one. Just under 1.5 K more words. For AO3 I'm splitting the two scenes into separate chapters. True, the second scene is rather short, but it is its own scene, a different P.O.V, etc. I added a little more background and thinking on Felicity's part, a little more interaction too, but nothing major.

_ Felicity Smoak's P.O.V. _

_February 2014. - STARLING CITY_

 

Felicity knew there was a good chance this was a bad idea. Even a very bad idea. But after over a month of searching through what clues she could find by herself, she was at wit's end.

 

She _had_ found plenty. The Queen Family history was so openly available to the public that it wasn't hard stringing bits and pieces together. And what little wasn't public knowledge, Felicity could hack her way into with relative ease. There was still a lot to go through though, especially when she couldn't be entirely sure about what she was looking for. Ruling out information as irrelevant was hard to do when you didn't quite know what would make it relevant.

 

Like whatever had been in that warehouse that'd scared Walter Steele so much months ago. It was empty now. Completely cleaned out—the security system wasn't even in place anymore. Though the cameras that'd been outside would've only hinted at who'd been there when, that knowledge might've still been useful. As would knowing who'd accessed it and ordered the clean up sometime after Walter had seen whatever was there.

 

But Felicity hadn't looked in time.

 

That was why she couldn't stop now. Not when what'd happened to the kindly Englishman was her fault.

 

Felicity should have talked him out of his curiosity as soon as he'd told her Josiah Hudson's car crash might have not been an accident. Might have had something to do with the scary contents of that warehouse.

 

All her time in this world had taught her many wonderful things, but it'd taught her some truly terrible truths, too. One of them being that people _kept_ killing for secrets worth killing over.

 

And mortals like Walter Steele were all too easy to kill. He may very well be months dead already.

 

Still she _had_ to _try_ to help him.

 

Felicity had known, even when Walter had tried to warn _her_ off for her own good—twice—that he wouldn't stop looking. That was why she'd stayed involved. If only to try to save a good man from the bad world he was delving deeper and deeper into. But she should have tried to stop him. Mysteries might incite her curiosity, but she'd learned long ago to let them rest if solving them meant more misery and death. Maybe she wouldn't have been able to talk him out of his investigation, but she should have at least tried.

 

But she hadn't tried hard enough.

 

Hadn't tried to talk him out of it.

 

Hadn't found any of the things that might've made Walter more cautious.

 

Methos would chide her for it. For all of this. He'd point out that the man was her boss; her boss's boss, actually; not someone she even worked close with. She'd only met with him a few times for his 'special project,' and only seen him a few times for that as it was. That hardly made him her friend. And mortals died. They always died. Even the good ones—especially the good ones, Methos would say.

 

But even though Felicity was now older than he'd been when they first met—only half his age, but an ancient in her own right for over a millennium now—the idea of just _accepting_ that bad things happened didn't sit well with her.

 

There was only so much she could do with what she had though; and so much more that she couldn't.

 

But maybe the Hood could. Could figure out what Moira Queen was hiding—what secrets were so dark that they were worth killing her husband over. And, if the Queen matriarch wasn't that vindictive, maybe he could even save Walter.

 

Especially since he already seemed to have _something_ against the people on the list of names Walter had found; since all of the Hood's targets had been listed therein.

 

Well, almost all; the 'Royal Flush Gang' were an aberration, just like Count Vertigo was. But those aberrations made sense if you knew who the vigilante was. That he was Moira Queen's son.

 

It wasn't a massive leap to make if you were used to reading people, used to putting what you knew about them together to figure them out. Add the _incredibly_ bad lies he'd tried on her, with things that so easily traced back to Starling's vigilante, and each one only confirmed her suspicions.

 

Not that Felicity was going to tell Oliver Queen that. In the unlikely event that she was reading him wrong, she didn't want an arrow with her name on it. Getting shot wouldn't kill her—permanently—but it _hurt_ like hell, however briefly the injury existed.

 

The cheerful waive the billionaire vigilante gave her when he spotted her coming through the diner's window made Felicity feel a little more sure that he wasn't going to don his Hood to shoot an arrow at her after this. At least sure enough to take those last few steps out of the rain and on over to the counter space he'd claimed. Though she couldn't quite keep her nervousness out of her voice as she came to a stop more than an arm's length away from his barstool. "Hi."

 

Felicity was trained to fight. Methos had insisted on that, and after some vicious arguments her first husband had even reluctantly agreed with him. But, though she couldn't say 'no' to the both of them, she didn't _like_ violence. Back then, she saw it for the necessary evil it was, and personally avoided it as much as she could otherwise. Time and certain circumstances made her become more circumspect. Avoiding the Game entirely was impossible if you didn't want to live on holy ground forever. Thought that just made the idea of fighting—let alone hurting or killing—mortals seem all the more _wrong_ to her. But not wrong enough to not still trust some of those that were capable of killing; not all of them. After all, she had killed herself. More than once. And not all of _them_ were Immortals who insisted on living and dying by the sword in The Game.

 

"Hi," Oliver nodded back to her, the calm lack of expectation on his face really making her wonder what'd changed the billionaire playboy into the mask for who he was now.

 

Because five years alone on an island couldn't be it. Especially since being stuck on a deserted island did not make most people master warriors. Survivalists, maybe, but not warriors. And other than slugging a paparazzo once and a few drunken brawls, Oliver Queen didn't have any history of bloodshed before the Queen's Gambit sank. The non-war-torn areas of this timeframe didn't force violence on most, outside of crime and disasters of other sorts. And even most of those violent places could be rendered relatively safe these days, if you could afford the manpower along with the rose-colored lenses.

 

"Thanks for meeting me," Felicity murmured softly, not bothering to control the nervous impulse that made her hands fidget as she stood before him. She could control it, if that was the persona she'd chosen for this lifetime, but it wasn't.

 

This 'life' was supposed to be as uneventful as the last few she'd chosen for herself had been, but it seemed the Fate's mercy had finally expired. Decades after the tragic end her last really 'eventful life' had come to. Her conscience couldn't let her fight it though, or flee from it like Methos would try to prescribe.

 

"I was... nervous, to come to your house," she admitted.

 

"O-kay..." Oliver chuckled, a little bit of the amusement that always seemed to dawn in his eyes when she babbled lighting his expression even as he kept watching her.

 

That look—that almost-smile that was becoming familiar—made her feel a little safer doing this even as some of the warmth quickly dimmed just a little as he studied her too intently, too seriously, for the carefree playboy he was pretending to still be.

 

The clear duplicity might have made Felicity more nervous again if she wasn't expecting it. But she didn't come lugging a computer or anything else because she'd already sent him from the spectroanalysis results that'd led to the Hood finding Count Vertigo before the S.C.P.D.

 

Something she didn't even feel bad about, because her only hesitation then had been whether or not giving him his target was a good idea when he'd been looking like he might drop dead when he'd brought his most recent request to her. He looked more like he was on the mend now, almost a whole day later.

 

And the drug-maker's blood money could've undoubtedly bought the Count a good enough lawyer to keep him off death row. Then bought him an escape from Starling City's less than pristine prison, too, even if the lawyer wasn't skilled to free him legally. There were many things she admired about the country she now claimed citizenship too: but the laws that protected the rights of a murderous madman more effectively than all of the people he'd killed were hard for her to swallow.

 

And the self-proclaimed 'Count Vertigo' was a mass-murdering madman. After all, based on the information that a 'trustworthy C.I' had been able to buy from the Russian Mob—according to the S.C.P.D's own files—the mad scientist actually attributed his self-chosen name not to the title 'Count,' but to the _count_ of _how_ _many_ _people_ his creation _had_ _killed_. Even though that C.I almost had to be Oliver Queen, Felicity didn't have any more reason to doubt its veracity than the police did. _That_ kind of madness was best handled one way. Whether it was vengeance—for his little sister's poor choices almost killing her—that'd gotten the vigilante involved in the first place or not.

 

It was possible immortality had given Felicity a unique perspective on such things quite outside modern society's acceptance or understanding. But that was why she'd accepted Oliver's horrible cover for why the 'sports drink' was in a syringe that looked like a weapon. And why she'd ultimately been able to send the results she'd managed down in the Q.C labs on to him. Results that she would've had to ask an actual lab employee for if she didn't know how to hack her way into the lab after hours and use a mass spectrometer herself—something he probably wouldn't ask about so she hadn't bothered to come up with a story for how she'd done it.

 

"Felicity?" Oliver's voice broke into her thoughts, and when she blinked at him some of that seriousness had given way to concern in the gaze that was still studying her. "Everything okay?"

 

"Yeah," she said automatically, then immediately shook her head. "I-I mean, no. Not really. I don't know." The babbling tongue she'd never really had to control in Starling City apparently wasn't up to not going wild while her nerves were wired. But she couldn't kick herself for not reigning it in, not when it made the handsome man soften again.

 

"Here," Oliver started to stand, but stopped almost as soon as he'd started when she moved slightly back—not quite a flinch, but enough for the perceptive man to notice. So he shifted back into his seat and pushed the stool beside him out and closer to her instead. "Have a seat." He watched her do so, then asked, "Can I get you something? Water?"

 

"No," Felicity shook her head firmly. "Thank you."

 

"Okay." His careful, calm agreement was very deliberate.

 

It dawned on her only then that he would've come here expecting one of two things.

 

The worst one, in his mind, probably being that she'd figured out he was 'The Hood.' Because even he had to know his lies _sucked_ , and that anyone who paid attention to the news should be able to see some connections between what he'd brought to her and the vigilante's activities. How nervous she was acting right now would only make that seem more likely, so Felicity supposed she should be glad he was inclined to be so patient and accommodating. It didn't mean he hadn't helped his mother get rid of her second husband, but along with the gentle warmth he tended to treat her with, it was reassuring.

 

The second, probably preferable but less likely option he might be expecting was the confession of a crush he could let her down gently from... or not, if he thought letting her down not so gently might make her less inclined to think of him as anything other than the filthy-rich playboy he wasn't anymore. Not that his courteous behavior suggest that was likely. Especially when she hadn't really tried to hide the fact that she found him attractive—before or after she realized he went around shooting arrows at people long after the bow was still considered a modern weapon of war.

 

That first time it'd just been mild shock at seeing him standing there wanting to talk to her and looking even more gorgeous than the photographs that didn't do him any justice at all. After that, though, she'd mostly just wanted to see him smile again... Which, come to think of it, might have a lot to do with why she was bouncing between self-preserving hesitance and hating that she hadn't tried to tell him sooner, before that brief meeting during his quest to avenge his sister had made her more sure that he wasn't heartless.

 

"Did something happen at Q.C?" Oliver asked her in that same gentle tone that made it sound like he could sit waiting all night. Some of his activities as a vigilante had probably required waiting like that, but that didn't make this any easier.

 

"No..." Felicity said again, trying to reign in her thoughts.

 

She'd thought she had earlier, but apparently she should've put more effort into getting ready for this mentally. Meditated. Practiced katas. Something.

 

Because the thoughts going through her head weren't calm or calming. Not when she was realizing that if he wasn't involved somehow, this was going to be an unpleasant surprise. Especially if he was only expecting her to confront him about her 'crush' or admit she knew he shot arrows at bad people.

 

Felicity took a deep breath to try and temper it back.

 

It helped, a little, that he ran around shooting arrows at people rather than attacking them with swords. What didn't help were her memories of when she'd been shot with arrows before. Fond memories they were _not_.

 

And if she was misjudging him—if he was killing and punishing people on his mother's list to cover something up, if he'd had a hand in whatever had happened to his step-father—an arrow could be the end to her life here in Starling City. She didn't really think so. But she'd been wrong before.

 

Felicity swallowed the swell of panic that almost tasted like smoke and forced herself to start talking. "The thing is, I've been debating whether or not to share this with you for weeks." She made herself look, watching him lower his head in a gesture of concentration, then softly asked. "Can I trust you?"

 

Oliver's chin immediately jerked up as his brow furrowed in consternation, and confusion that looked almost real. Would look real, to someone who hadn't been putting people puzzles together in their head for thousands of years before he was born.

"I'm _not_ an idiot," Felicity scoffed, shaking her head. "You've dropped some fairly  _ridiculous_ likes on me..." 

              

                                                                      

Oliver only kept smiling at her, waiting for whatever it was she'd asked him to meet her here for.

"And yet I still feel like I can trust you," she chuckled wryly, looking down at her hands. "Why is that?"

As good as she was at reading people, there were times that Felicity didn't understand her own mind. Or maybe it was her 'gut,' as they seemed to say nowadays. How sometimes she'd be inclined to trust someone she probably shouldn't, for no reason she _knew_ , and other times inclined to not trust someone she should. But she'd learned a long time ago to trust those instincts; they'd led to some pretty amazing relationships over time, and saved her neck more than a few times, too. Every time she'd been wise enough to listen and trust them.

 

"I have one of those faces," Oliver replied with an easy grin, only to back-peddle instantly at the disapproval she didn't try to hide, proving that he, too, could read people well. At least well enough to know he had to be serious now. "Sorry. Yes," he nodded soberly. "You can trust me."

 

It doubtlessly shouldn't have been enough for her. Not when she was going to essentially tell him that his mother almost certainly had something to do with his stepfather's kidnapping—and maybe his death. But it was enough.

 

If Methos wasn't still walking around, just like her, he'd be turning over in his grave. Nonstop.

 

"Then I have something to show you," Felicity finally opened her knapsack to pull the peril-packed little book out, not missing how the sight of it made the vigilante freeze for a second in her peripheral vision.

 

Oliver was looking back up, meeting her gaze by the time she did, but he was stiffer now. She _had_ surprised him. With something he _recognized_ _on sight_. Confirmation she didn't really need—and she still needed to know if it was something he might kill her for.

  

Felicity held the book out to him, and let him take it, watching him for several long moments as he opened it and started flipping through the pages, his mouth a firmly unhappy line. "Have you ever seen this before?" she asked; voice her most gently soothing.

 

"...No," Oliver lied, slowly shaking his head as he looked down at it, still too tense to be telling the truth as he kept looking through the little book.

 

She'd know that even if she hadn't figured out that he was the Hood and noticed that the Hood seemed to be targeting the people on this list or another like it.

 

"Where'd you get it?" Oliver asked her after hesitating just a little too long, still looking through the long list of names—some powerful, some negligible. And apparently deciding to skip the question of what the long list of names was.

 

Something he shouldn't do if he wanted to pretend he didn't already know; just like he should've brought the Vertigo to her in a bottle or a test tube yesterday. But she wasn't going to bring his attention to his poor lying skills now.

 

"From your stepfather," Felicity replied evenly, voice still soft, but meeting his gaze as that made him look up at her again.

 

"From Walter." Oliver swallowed, then nodded, looking back at the names again. "Um... Well," he looked up, locking gazes with her again as he asked, "Where did he get it?"

 

"He said he found it in your house," Felicity answered gently, because this would come as a blow to him. No matter why this list of names had become bulls-eyes for him, she now knew that he _didn't_ know his mother was somehow involved in whatever this was. "That it belongs to your mother."

 

The billionaire met her gaze again then, looking a little lost. That look wasn't acting at all: it was the little boy who'd just found out his mother wasn't an angel who could do no wrong, and that realization momentarily made the whole world seem dark and cold.

 

"Walter thought she was hiding something." Felicity shook her head. "Something... _more_. And he wanted me to look into it... But then he vanished." She wasn't surprised when he looked away, his thoughts probably whirring a million miles a minute as she finished. "I think this list might have cost Walter his life."


	2. Chapter 2

_ Oliver Queen's P.O.V. _

 

As much as Felicity Smoak's surprise had shocked him, John Diggle's reaction to that same surprise didn't.

 

"So this book contains a list of the names of the guys you've been hunting." Diggle summarized as he held the book Oliver's father had given him up, then switched to the new book. "And this book, your mother's, has the same list of names."

 

"It's identical," Oliver confirmed flatly as he accepted both books back.

 

Though that wasn't exactly true. The pages that were missing from Oliver's hadn't been torn from the one that supposedly belonged to his mother. And this other book hadn't had to weather the island, or maybe anything at all. Given it's like-new appearance, it seemed very likely that wherever Walter had found it stored had kept it very well preserved.

 

"So where'd your mother get her copy, Oliver?" Diggle demanded. "For that matter, who gave it to you?"

 

"Felicity Smoak," Oliver answered evenly. "She said that Walter found it in their bedroom."

 

And Oliver did _not_ like that.

 

That Walter had been that specific with this girl that should've been safe from whatever was going on. From whatever it was his father wanted him to stop. Because it was becoming more and more obvious that he was supposed to _stop_ _something_ , not just fix every wrong with an arrow.

 

Regardless, that law-abiding girl with a steady, safe job that provided a good enough salary for her to live in a safe neighborhood; she should've been safe. Safely lower middle class, and therefore away from all the turmoil the corrupt elite of Starling City had inflicted—and still were inflicting—on the already impoverished. Why had Walter brought her into all of this?

 

But then, Oliver couldn't really ask that, could he? Not when he'd gone back to Felicity Smoak more than once himself. Because she was one of those rare people his tortured gut knew he could both trust and rely on for her very obvious skill-set.

 

"And now he's missing," Diggle stated the obvious, forcing Oliver to focus on the real problem here.

 

On the fact that the next person the Hood should be visiting was someone Oliver never wanted to see as the vigilante, let alone point an arrow at.

 

"She's my _mother_ , Diggle. She's not the kind of person who would—"

 

"Have her husband disappeared?" the ex-soldier cut him off firmly, his serious gaze locked with Oliver's. "Because that's really the question, isn't it, Oliver?" He shook his head as he crossed his arms. "I understand why you would believe your mother over your stepfather, but I tend to believe the innocent party is whoever's missing—and presumed dead."

 

Oliver hated the fact with every fiber of his being, but he did know his friend was right.

 

Just like he knew that Felicity would keep digging if he didn't. That she cared that much—too much. Even though she'd only worked with Walter on this dangerous 'special project' for a short time. He'd made enough of an impression to merit not letting go, not giving up on him. Or Felicity Smoak was just too kindhearted to give up, even if it could get her killed.

 

Oliver sighed, "I'll talk to her."

 

"As the Hood?" Diggle asked the question, but his tone told Oliver he expected the answer he got.

 

"As _her son_."

* * *

_End of_ ** _Trust_**.

* * *

**NEXT: Sudden Life Changes**.

_Because bullets and blood build bonds...and traumatic memories._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original End Note: Well, that brings us into Season 1 Arrow!  
> I am going to be making a concerted effort to keep Felicity as in-character as possible, but I also won't be following every scene word-for-word all the way through. If you want that, go watch the show again. I will, however, be going through some of the scenes, especially so in the first season because I actually don't plan on Felicity's big reveal... well, for a while yet. Because I don't think Felicity would just come out and tell anyone about her Immortality. Certainly not when she had Methos as her mentor! I considered making Chapter 1 start when Team Arrow found out, I even started writing it that way, but that involved skipping over a lot of great scenes, so it didn't happen.  
> Also, while I think the chemistry alone between the actors made OLICITY canon even in Season 1, I will be changing some things to make it even more so. If you don't like OLICITY... well, you might still like this, I guess. It's up to you; just keep in mind that Felicity is the main character here, and the pairing IS listed in the summary.  
> Bye for now!  
> ~ Jess S

**Author's Note:**

> Again, thank you for commenting: Lademonessa & Faith-Kiamn.   
> And thank you to everyone kudo'd.  
> Hope you like the rest of the series, too! :-D


End file.
